


Sometimes Faith Feels Like Doubt

by brodinsons (aeon_entwined)



Series: Fruit of Eden [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 09:13:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2687303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeon_entwined/pseuds/brodinsons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ORIGINALLY POSTED: April 03, 2010</p>
<p>Sam discovers the benefits of having an archangel stalker and Lucifer makes a big gesture ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes Faith Feels Like Doubt

Dean doesn’t like it, but after the discussions, and the cussing, and the possible ruffling of metaphysical feathers, he lives with it. The Devil is hitching a ride on their personal highway to Hell and nobody can really say anything about it.

He’s an archangel, for Christ’s sake … it’s not like one of them could just tell him to get the Hell out. That would probably fall under the category of Immediately Smitable Offenses. 

So, he sucks it up and takes it like a man. Even when Satan is obviously eyeing his little brother in the back seat of the Impala. _What the fuck is up with that?_

Cas rides shotgun, and seems to enjoy it. In his own stoic angel way. And when he informs Dean, in that ‘I am portending your doom’ voice, that they are currently hunting a band of demons specifically bent on capturing Sam and forcing him into saying the ‘big yes’, Dean quickly realizes it is in fact a Thursday.

Unfortunately for the demons, their boss was either one step ahead of them or about a light year ahead of the game plan itself.

Mainly because just before they’d parked outside the abandoned barn, he’d been sitting in the back seat.

“Dude … where’d your stalker go?” Dean’s voice is half teasing, half serious.

Sam pulls a confused face and shrugs. “I have no clue. He just angel-mojo-ed out of there as soon as we stopped.”

Cas doesn’t seem to have any answers either, and pretty soon, all three of them are knee-deep in about a dozen Apocalyptic fanatics.

Guns and rock salt are pretty damn helpful, but Cas’ instant-exorcism abilities are sorely missed. He’s still good with a knife and some of his latent angel mojo is definitely helping on the demon-immobilizing front.

It’s down to the last six, and things are looking pretty good. Dean and Cas are fighting back to back, making quick work of their attackers. 

Then, just as he’s about to take out a really annoying teen demon, something slams into the back of his leg and stars explode behind his eyes as he slumps to the floor.

“SAM!” Dean’s shout just about deafens him, even from across the room. Both he and Cas are surrounded by the other four and running way too low on ammo.

He’s kind of dizzy and his leg really fucking hurts and it’s probably the creepily tall demon leering over him with an evil-looking knife in his hand that did it. He tries swinging his arm in a wide arc, aiming for the sonofabitch’s thigh, but he’s too slow and the demon just kicks the blade aside and reaches down.

“Somebody’s going to be happy to see you, pretty boy.” Even the tone of voice is smarmy.

Then, things suddenly go very bright, very sharp, and very confusing.

Sam blinks several times, hoping to clear the spots in his vision. Then, his line of sight settles on a pair of worn brown boots a few inches from his nose. _Those definitely aren’t the demon’s … and I don’t think that demon’s anywhere to be seen now …_

He squints at them slightly, then huffs out a short breath. “Took you long enou-aagh!” 

His entire body goes rigid as white-hot pain flares in his leg, but it’s gone a second later. Then, large hands are wrapping around his arms and hauling him upright. A second later, he’s nose-to-nose with the Devil and Lucifer’s expression is like something you’d find on a dad who just yanked his teenager out of a fistfight. He can almost feel the _do I have to save you from_ everything _?_ oozing off of him. 

“Next time, I wouldn’t be so flippant about my aid.”

“Fine. Thanks for the leg. It feels better now.” Sam snaps back, shoving his shoulder against the archangel’s upper arm.

Cas and Dean are looking at Lucifer as though they can’t quite figure out whether to thank him for saving everyone’s asses, or threaten him with a ring of holy oil.

The younger angel looks sorely tempted for the latter so Sam mutters a quick warning in Lucifer’s ear. “If you want to stay on Dean’s good side, and that includes Mr. Angry Angel over there, I’d say we should get moving.”

“It isn’t safe here. Michael’s lieutenant has already been alerted to your position. I dallied too long.” The archangel gives a decisive snap of his fingers, and they’re all quite suddenly back in the motel room.

Dean makes a rather undignified noise and stumbles into Cas as he attempts to reorient himself. The angel supports him easily, murmuring a few calming words in his ear. But the elder Winchester is still glaring daggers at the archangel and Sam realizes it’s time to diffuse the potential landmine.

“Hey Dean!” his voice sounds falsely cheery, even to his own ears. “Man, I’m starving. You wanna go with Cas and get some take-out?”

Dean gives him a calculating look, and he sends one right back. _Cool off and come back when you’re not going to shoot someone._

“Yeah. Sounds good. We’ll find a place.” He replies stiffly, grabbing his keys and stalking towards the door. “C’mon Cas.”

The angel follows him, giving the pair still in the room a pensive look before disappearing outside.

+++++++++++

“Mind telling me why exactly you just skipped out on us without saying anything?”

He’s not pissed, exactly, just annoyed. Well, as not-pissed over getting your leg nearly sliced in half and then abruptly repaired as he could be.

“I was looking for this.” Lucifer removes a rather intimidating blade from the waistband of his jeans, where it had been hidden beneath the over shirt he always wore.

Sam gapes openly at it for a moment. It’s curved, serrated, and somehow looks _angry_. He’s never seen anything like it before in his life. 

He blinks at the archangel. “So … what? Another angelic weapon?”

“No. This blade was designed and forged before I was sealed in Hell. It is the singular weapon that can feasibly be used to defeat Death.”

Sam tenses, then stares. “Death … as in … the Horseman Death??”

Lucifer nods, expression almost wryly amused, as if the human’s apparent astonishment is entertaining.

“I cannot, will not, cease everything, Sam. Things have been set in motion than you can scarcely comprehend.”

The hunter narrows his eyes, stalking up closer to the archangel, the blade forgotten on the closest bed.

“I thought you’d hit the pause button, or something. What the hell are you talking about?” His voice is low, shocked.

Lucifer gives him a strange look, half pity and half sorrow. 

“The Apocalypse is not something I can simply walk away from and declare over, Sam. It is a complicated, multi-layered thing. And it is still very much in motion.”

At that, Sam feels almost violently ill to his stomach.

“I am intrigued by you. And your argument for your survival is the most passionate I could have imagined.”

Finally, Sam takes both hands, fists them in the collar of Lucifer’s shirt and shakes him. He’s an archangel and he could smite him without even trying, but fuck the rules. This calls for an exception.

“Listen up, and listen good, you selfish sonofabitch.” He snarls, expression contorted. “If you’re hanging around, you’re part of this team. You’re not going to be going out there and raising another Horseman just to make us go after it.”

“I’m sorry, Sam. I truly, _truly_ am. But I’m afraid nothing is ever that simple.”

“Fuck simple! Can’t you just use common sense?! Why are you even here if you’re not going to even try to stop it?!”

The archangel looks at him for a moment, and doesn’t answer. Instead, a strange expression settles on his face. His eyes seem older all of a sudden, and almost weary.

“I am here … because of you.”

It’s a quiet admission, something Sam isn’t even sure he’s supposed to hear. And there’s a strange vulnerability in the words that wasn’t there a moment earlier.

The anger deflates and he’s more than a little confused. “Then stay … and help us stop it.”

There isn’t any response, but Lucifer’s expression changes again and his posture slumps slightly, almost as though he’s admitting defeat.

Sam reaches up, takes the Devil’s face in his hands and pulls him closer. “If you’re here because of me … _help me_.”

The archangel makes a quiet noise, almost as though Sam has shattered him completely. And maybe he has, neither of them knows for sure. 

Then, Sam tosses caution to the wind and seals their lips together. 

This time, he’s not in control, the Devil isn’t in control, it’s somewhere in some middle ground. This time, it’s filthy and dirty and human and everything Lucifer hates to be. And Sam makes sure he feels every second of it.


End file.
